Gank Spank
by FluffPuffCat
Summary: Upon noticing the trio that has taken up residence in his courtyard, Aldrich deploys his Faithfuls.


Aldrich was so bloated that his voice sounded like a whale's bellow. He was also puppeteering the corpse of Gwyndolin around as he spoke, which looked just a little bit unnerving to the Aldrich Faithfuls gathered before him.

"My faithful guardians," Aldrich said, his deep voice rumbling across the room. "A particularly troublesome trio has taken up residence in the courtyard behind the Pontiff's cathedral. They've slain all my deacons, the stone giants, and the silver knights. Even the Pontiff Beasts guarding the remains of Archdeacon Mcdonnell in the underground water reserve have fallen. Yet, instead of continuing on to face me in Anor Londo, they've decided to simply sit in the courtyard. What is the meaning of this?"

One of the Faithfuls stepped forward. It was a former knight of Catarina, suited up in their huge onion-shaped armour.

"My name is Sieghild of Catarina," a woman's voice spoke from behind the onion helmet. "I have come to serve thee, Saint of the Deep. With my executioner's blade, I will take care of this trio for thee. They shall learn the pain of trespassing thy domain."

"That is all very well," Aldrich said, "but that doesn't explain the trio's behaviour. What is the meaning of their refusal to continue to Anor Londo? What do they gain from standing around?"

"It is a game they play," Sieghild answered. "For time in Lothric is convoluted, and it so happens that thine courtyard is a popular place for spacetime-hopping invaders to hunt. The invaders shall come, one after another, in their attempts to slay the trio, but most of them will fall. And, as for the three, they gain the pleasure of the _gank_."

"And don't even get me started on the fight clubs," another Faithful chimed in.

The room began to shake. Beneath their feet, the Faithfuls could feel the slimy tendrils of their master ripping through the ground. Aldrich led out a deep, frightening bellow of rage. The half-eaten corpse of Gwyndolin seemed to make an expression of fury in concurrence.

"The _gank_ , you say?" Aldrich roared. "Is this some new game the Unkindled play? Do they make a mockery of me?" The corpse of Gwyndolin lifted up its scythe and slammed the hilt upon the floor. "Sieghild!"

"Yes." Sieghild knelt down before her master. "What do you command of me, your greatness?"

"Go out to the courtyard! Annihilate the trio! Show them the wrath they invoke by defiling this sacred domain – MY domain! Do not return until you have brought me their dregs!"

"At once!" And with that, Sieghild had vanished.

"The rest of you, go after her and help her," Aldrich commanded. "But only three at a time. Remember that. No more than three!"

* * *

Sieghild sat on the roof of the building that overlooked the courtyard, observing the scene below with a pair of binoculars. Just as Aldrich had said, there was a trio standing in the middle of the courtyard.

Over the past hour, invaders clad in red, orange, and purple had launched themselves at this trio, but they had all been ruthlessly eliminated one after another. She knew that she had no chance if she were to attack them head on. First, she needed information. What weapons did the trio use? What strategy did they employ? Could they fight indefinitely? Next, she needed to find their weakness and a way to exploit it. Then, she had to come up with a plan.

Two other Faithfuls emerged beside her, having been summoned to service by Aldrich. She glanced at both of them. One was wielding a massive Astora Greatsword and was clad in the black winter coat of the Drang. The other used a pair of Gotthard Twinswords and wore the armour set of Lothric.

"What are your names?" Sieghild asked.

"I am Guts," the Drang-clad man said.

Sieghild turned to the other. "And you?"

"I am also Guts."

She stared at both of them. After deliberating over it carefully, she decided that she would refer to the first one as Gutsone, and the second one as Gutstwo.

"We have information about the trio in the courtyard," Gutsone said.

"Where'd you get the information from?" Sieghild asked.

"From a clan of invaders that call themselves the Bloodshades," Gutstwo answered. "They all dress in the same drab clothing and fight in the same dumb way. You must've seen them before. They just dance all over the place."

"It inevitably gets them killed," Gutsone added.

"All right. What's the information?"

Gutsone stepped to the edge of the roof. "Their names are Lord of Meta, K, and Salt. The Lord of Meta is a man who wields a ridiculously long katana. He's also fond of using the dreaded crystal sorceries. K wields a long, fiery spear pillaged from the gargoyles of the Profaned Capital. In addition, she's a decent Pyromancer, with control over both the flames of chaos and the blackflame. The last one, Salt, wields a powerful curved sword fortified with the resin of Carthus Rouge. One cut from that sword rends asunder your armour and flesh. He's also their leader."

"A truly formidable opponent," Sieghild said, gulping.

She looked down at the trio through her binoculars again. Sure enough, they were using the exact weapons that Gutsone had described.

They were up against two red invaders. The first invader charged at Salt, brandishing an axe. She was stopped in her tracks by Lord of Meta, who ran his katana through her chest. The other invader dashed towards Lord of Meta with a halberd to avenge her death. Before he could reach him, a snaking black fire threw him off his feet, and a crystal soul spear turned the rest off his body into a screaming red kebab.

Both invaders disintegrated into ash.

"Sieghild, what shall we do?" Gutstwo asked.

"It doesn't look good," she replied. "But I have a plan. First, we need to take out Lord of Meta. His katana is ludicrously long. No one should ever have a weapon that preposterous."

Gutsone and Gutstwo nodded in agreement.

"Fortunately, I can shrug off his katana's stab with my armour and greatsword and deliver a devastating counter. While I deal with him, the two of you need to get into K and Salt's faces to make sure that they don't get up on me. Guts, you take Salt and pound him down with your ultra greatsword. Guts, you charge straight at K and make sure she never has a moment to throw her Pyromancies at us. Got it?"

"Got it," the two of them replied synchronously.

"All right." Sieghild stood up and raised her sword. "Our battle begins! For Aldrich, Devourer of Gods!"

"For the Devourer of Gods!" the two Guts shouted.

The three of them jumped down from the roof and dashed straight at the trio in the courtyard with a tremendous wary cry.

Sieghild made a beeline for Lord of Meta. Bright blue soul spears and burning orange fireballs whizzed past her head, but she took no notice of them. All she knew was that she had to get to Lord of Meta and take him out as quickly as possible. With him waving his giant katana around, they could never be safe. Her victory could only be assured when him and his katana were pounded into the ground.

All of a sudden, she heard two agonizing cries of pain behind her.

Turning around, she saw that both Guts had been hit by the trio's barrage of spells. They had fallen to the ground and were already fading into ash.

"This is okay, this is okay," Sieghild whispered as the trio advanced upon her. "I can survive this. I've got my backup plan ready."

She didn't tell her two compatriots about her backup plan, as it was an entirely solo endeavour. It was the strategy that she resorted to every time her comrades had fallen. Her left fist clenched. Thick straps of leather studded with iron rivets glided over her knuckles.

Growing up brawling in the alleys of Catarina had taught her a thing or two about survival.

Salt and K charged her at once. She ducked under K's spear and rolled away from Salt's deadly curved sword. But as she rolled, she could already see the ridiculously long katana coming at her face. As soon as she was back on her feet, she flung her left fist forward.

The katana bounced away from her with a satisfying _twang_. Lord of Meta staggered backward, completely vulnerable. Sieghild raised her executioner's greatsword and slammed its flat blade through his chest. His eyes went wide, and his voice became stuck in his throat. She shoved him to the floor as hard as she could. He was in too much pain to make a sound. As she pulled out her blade, Lord of Meta gasped his dying breath and began to fade away.

Sieghild turned around. "Who's next?"

K clapped.

All of a sudden, Sieghild heard a sound like a portal appearing beside her. She turned towards it and saw a flash of red. It was an invader! He had arrived just in the nick of time. Now, it was going to be a two on two.

Raising her sword up into the air, Sieghild roared another battle cry and charged at K. Her red ally sprinted up beside her. A smile came to her lips. He was going to fight alongside her. They were in this together. With two of them, they could-

A burning pain erupted across her back as two slashes of steel were dealt upon her. She turned around and saw that the invader had his arm raised, about to strike a third blow. He wielded the Dark Sword and wore the gear of the fallen knights.

But why? It didn't make any sense!

There were two of them, and two of the trio left. They were both invaders! They could have worked together!

When she looked into this invader's eyes, she saw nothing. No light. No sign of intelligence. Not a hint of rationality.

She wasn't about to take this rubbish from him.

Before he could land his third blow, her left fist knocked his sword up into the air. With all her strength, she plunged her executioner's blade through his heart and smashed him to the ground. She could feel the ground crack beneath the force of her slam. The invader could only let out a weak, dying scream before fading into ash.

Sieghild turned around just in time to see a big fireball being hurled towards her. She rolled out of the way, but was struck in the shoulder by a gleaming curved sword. Blood flew up into the air. Salt raised his sword and slashed her again. She staggered backwards, and her vision went white. Pain flooded her senses. It seemed like the whole world was going to explode around her.

But she wasn't done yet.

Her situation was dire, but she had suffered worse. Far worse.

This battle was nothing compared to the brawls that she had went through in her childhood. In Catarina, no one grew up without learning how to fight. Without learning pain. When she was only six, her older brothers and sisters knocked her tooth out in a dispute over a simple toy. In revenge, she nearly strangled them to death with her own hands. Then, when she started working at a bar, she had to deal with lecherous men who couldn't keep their hands off her. She kept a knife hidden in her belt which she used to slit their wrists, their fingers, or if they went too far, their privates.

When the Undead Curse struck Catarina and she was left alone, she had to survive by running 'errands' for deadly criminal gangs. Kidnappings and assassinations became her trade. One errand gone wrong left her stuck in a tiny cage with a dozen hungry rats. She had ripped open the cage bars with her own hands. When she found her captors, she tied their heads up in bags with those same hungry rats. In the morning, she returned and saw only carcasses.

Fighting these imbeciles was nothing to her.

As Salt dashed at her again, she rolled out of the way – straight into a stab of K's Gargoyle Flame Spear. It went straight through her left hip, but she didn't even flinch. Instead, she raised her sword and smashed it down onto K's head. She heard a shriek of pain. She smashed her sword again. And again. And again, until all that was left of K was a bloody pulp.

When she turned to face her final foe, she saw him running away. Running back to the patio by the Pontiff's cathedral.

"Oh no, you don't!"

With a final burst of stamina, Sieghild sprinted after Salt. She caught up with him just as he reached the patio. Salt froze for a moment, staring at the ground, when he was knocked forward by a spinning slash of her sword.

Salt turned around, his eyes burning with rage. He spit out a glob of blood.

"Bitch," he whispered, voice seething with rage. "I'll show you not to mess with me!"

"Finally, a real fight?" Sieghild replied.

Their swords clashed in midair. Sieghild rolled towards him, slamming her sword towards his face, but he stepped out of the way just in time. He whipped his curved sword towards her, the tip glancing against her armour. She took a step back and resumed her fighting stance. Salt charged at her again. She ducked to dodge his first blow, but he landed a second one down surprisingly quickly upon her back. Sieghild was sent sprawling across the floor. She rolled, but could feel him raising his sword up into the air to deliver his finishing blow.

Without even getting back onto her feet, she swung her left fist up and parried his sword away.

As Salt staggered back, Sieghild returned to her feet. No, her executioner's sword wouldn't do. She had to pull out her final trick.

From within the vast enclaves of her Catarina armour, she pulled out the humongous Fume Knight's Greatsword.

With a single swipe of the greatsword, she dropped Salt to his knees. She raised her sword again.

Mustering up all her strength, she smashed the greatsword into Salt's face.

His body went flying back, before crumpling to the ground as nothing more than a bag of blood and shattered bones.

Sieghild stepped towards Salt as he began to fade into ash. She wiped the blood away from her eyes.

"Git gud, scrub."

She pointed down at him.

She pointed down at him again.


End file.
